She nods.
“It’s beautiful. Well done.”
“Thanks. It took some effort to convince my dad that I knew what I was doing. He still thinks I’m a kid, ya know?”
I roll my eyes. “Boy, do I know. It’s pretty hard to get parents to see us as adults.”
“Growing up is overrated,” Greyson says as he leans in beside me.
Colleen shakes her head. “That’s because you’ll never grow up, Coach.”
He shrugs. “Been married, had a kid, and am in the middle of a divorce. I don’t think there’s anything more adult than that.”
His smile doesn’t slip, the easy air he gives off remains in place, but I can feel the difference in him.
As much as he jokes, losing his wife is still painful for him.
That he doesn’t get to be with his daughter every day is hard on him.
My fingers trail from his elbow to his hand, and he gives mine a squeeze to let me know that he’s okay.
“I guess you’re right about that.” Colleen tucks her auburn hair behind her ear, reverting back into herself.
“Well, I’m back in my childhood bedroom, so I guess I’m behind. This though…” I wave at the spread she’s created. “This is impressive. I don’t know where to start.”
“Here, let me pick out my favorites for you. Do you mind spice?” The color brightens in her face, but I see the pride. It’s the same thing I feel when I accomplish something new.
“Not at all.”
Colleen makes plates up for Greyson and me, and I can’t help but compare her to the version of her I remember in high school.
She was in my grade, but she leaned into the arts more than sports like I did.
Although we crossed paths in the library often.
She seems to have come out of her shell a bit more, even if the shyness hasn’t completely left her.
Confidence and being allowed to showcase one’s talent really helps.
This is even more evident as she hands us two plates that look as good as her original display does.
“Brilliant. Thank you, Colleen.”
Pink cheeked again, she nods and slips back to let us find a seat and eat.
Customers are steady at the cash register, so her work is paying off for sure. That makes me so happy for her.
Greyson leads me to a table that’s just opened up, and the chatter in the room creates a pleasant background drone.
Our legs mingle under the table, knees tapping each other.
The food is good.
I bet the visitors and townsfolk are equally impressed.
I’ll have to remember Colleen for the next party I organize.
A mix of emotions punches through my chest at that thought. Does that mean I’m already planning to stay?
